


Stand Down

by AZGirl



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Episode: s02e10 Ki'ilua, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-29
Updated: 2011-11-29
Packaged: 2017-10-26 16:51:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AZGirl/pseuds/AZGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After all he’s been through, Steve needs to realize that it’s okay for him to stand down now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stand Down

ooooooo

Frank Bama, the pilot of the rusty bucket of bolts (and sometimes chicken coop) that we’re voluntarily flying in…

Make no mistake, I’ve no doubts about the fact that this mission was a just cause. I’m also reasonably certain that I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I hadn’t have at least tried to rescue my partner and friend. Even the thought of Steve being left to rot in some God-forsaken hell-hole being tortured or whatever else Wo Fat had planned still makes me feel nauseous.

And I’m not really complaining, I’m just rationally concerned about a helicopter that flew its last mission over 25 years ago.

Also, just for the record, there’s no way that I’m ever going to admit how freakin’ happy I was to see Steve alive in the back of that truck even as I felt sick to my stomach at seeing him looking so beat to hell.

Anyway, our pilot announces to everyone that we’re only ten minutes from the border.  All of us in the helicopter relax fractionally but not completely at the news. Kono is keeping an eye out for potential trouble, but still ten minutes is ten minutes and anything can happen.

I turn and lean forward a little to say something to Steve, but when I lock eyes on him, I can see he’s still in hyper-vigilant SuperSEAL mode. That he’s still pumped up on adrenaline and refusing to relax even a little despite all the pain I can tell he’s in right now. Even the other SEALs in the helicopter have at least begun to stand down, but not Steven.

I get it. Or at least I think I do in part. His mission to help Jenna’s fiancé went completely FUBAR and he was betrayed, captured and tortured by his greatest enemy. And I’m absolutely certain that there’s more that went on that we haven’t yet heard about. It’s completely understandable that Steve wouldn’t let himself relax quite yet after everything he’s been through recently and no matter how much his body is screaming at him to rest.

The worry I’ve had for my partner since before he even left the States had calmed somewhat once I’d found him in the back of that truck, but given his face and the way he’s carrying himself now, I can tell he’s way past the point he should’ve crashed. And knowing my friend as well as I do, he’s not letting himself rest as some sort of punishment for failing to see Jenna’s betrayal coming and for everything else that went wrong.

I shift my gaze to Joe, whose expression goes from satisfaction at a successful mission to a look of worry that probably closely mirrors my own. I can’t believe that Joe hasn’t noticed yet that Steve should’ve crashed and passed out by now. But at my obvious concern for the injured SEAL, I think Steve’s mentor is getting the idea real quick. 

I would do something, but I don’t think my big goof of a friend would listen to me. I’m convinced that in this situation, he needs a commanding officer and not a friend to give him ‘permission’ to relax and let go.

Over Steve’s head, I mouth, “Do something,” and incline my head toward our suffering friend.

Joe gives me a slight nod and bends over to get his mouth closer to Steve’s ear. I can just barely make out what he’s saying over the helo’s loud engine and the wind rushing past its open sides.

“We’re clear, Steve. Stand down.”

My partner’s hands tighten around the rifle he’s holding, and it’s a few moments before he says anything in response. Then, finally –

“I... can’t, Joe. Wo Fat is still out there.”

“But he’s not here. We’re clear. Stand down.”

Steve’s face twists into something I’ve not seen before. I don’t have a name for it, and I’m not sure I ever _want_ to put a name to it. But, if I had to describe it, I’d say it’s some combination of the memory of what was done to him, the worry it might happen again, the pain he’s feeling from his wounds, and if I’m not mistaken, maybe even a little bit of fear of letting go.

It kills me to see my friend like that and I reach out a hand to lay it on Steve’s shoulder. My only intention was to provide some measure of comfort to him and to let him know I was there for him. Instead though, he startles a little and brings the gun he’s holding up and almost ready to fire before he realizes what he’s done, that it was just me and not his enemy.

Steve lowers the rifle and with a look of extreme guilt on his face – a look that was in no way an improvement over his  previous face – he begins, “Danny—”

In my mind there’s no need for an apology in this messed up situation so I cut him off. “It’s okay, babe,” I say as I gently pat his shoulder a couple of times trying to be mindful of his wounds.

Joe bends down once again and even in the noisy helicopter, I can hear the commanding tone of his voice.

“Stand down, Commander. That’s an order.”

If our injured SEAL could’ve come to full attention right then, I think he would’ve, but instead he tenses up even more and admits, “Not sure I can make it any further if I stand down now, sir.”

I could barely hear Steve’s reply so I lean closer as Joe sighs and tries once more.

“Steve, you know the old saying: _‘When you can’t run; you crawl. And when you can’t crawl; you find someone to carry you.’_ We’ll be there to carry you, son. Don’t you worry about that.”

And like a puppet with its strings cut, our friend goes from hyper-vigilant and adrenaline-fueled to mostly boneless and barely conscious. His body relaxes, the gun lowers, and his head drops. He starts listing to the right and I see Joe shift his leg to help keep Steve upright. I lend my support the best way I can and I shift my leg closer to Joe’s to help him keep my partner from falling over. I watch as Joe checks Steve’s pulse, and he nods an okay to me before repositioning our friend’s head so he’s resting more comfortably.

Beside Joe, Gutches comments, “’Bout damn time. The kid lasted longer than I thought he would.”

“Yeah,” Joe agrees distractedly then continues, “But I think he would’ve made it all the way had Danny and I not interfered for his own good.”

“Maybe,” Gutches shrugs his shoulders and resumes his watch for potential trouble in the surrounding area.

I start to reach toward Steve, but hesitate not wanting to disturb my friend’s much needed rest. Instead I thump the back of my hand lightly against Joe’s shoulder. When he looks at me, I say, “Thanks.”

Joe shakes his head slightly and replies, “No, thank you. You realized before I did that he was way beyond needing to stand down.”

“He’s my best friend,” I state as if that explained everything, which in my mind, it did.

When we land a while later, Chin and I jump out of the helicopter first. Joe and Gutches carefully hand our still unconscious friend down to us.

When Steve couldn’t run, we helped him ‘crawl’ to the helicopter, and now that he can’t ‘crawl’ we intend to carry him off of it. We’ll carry him all the way home if we have to.

It’s what ‘ohana does for each other.

ooooooo

 _the end._

 **ooooooo**

**Author's Note:**

> The 'old saying' comes from an episode of Firefly called "The Message" written by Tim Minear and Joss Whedon.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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